


What we have left

by paranormalPenguin



Category: Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
Genre: Daddy Issues, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Pseudo-Incest, Smut, Urination
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 21:20:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11859888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranormalPenguin/pseuds/paranormalPenguin
Summary: Victor chases his creature into deep north when they decide to finally talk to each other. Or, at least, something similar to it...





	What we have left

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is pretty much a first draft as any editing process would probably result in fire. Better don't expect anything.  
> More chapters will follow... eventually, when I can finally scratch myself off the ground again.

He had been walking for hours, ever more snow hindering his sight, ever more pitiless cold wind hitting his pinched body. The flame of vengeance pushed him further, gave him the will to continue living. His existence had a purpose, and he was going to fulfil it. He stumbled. When was the last time he had eaten or even allowed himself to rest? He tripped, and felt straight-up into the snow. He couldn’t allow himself to pause, forced the maltreated body up again, just a little further, for William, for Justine. For Henry, his father, Elisabeth. His knees trembled, every step a struggle against his own body.  
But it wasn’t enough. He caught his foot, just a bit, only a small assault on his balance, and his face hit the snow again. Every attempt at moving was in vain, all sense had left his body. Only his voice would still obey him; and so he cried out, darning that pathetically puny husk holding him back, cursing the snow, the wind, the physics of the whole damn planet that had conspired against him, and, more than all of that, the cause of his pains: the wretchedness that he himself had summoned, the daemon which had sworn to torment him and all mankind ad infinitum. And who would hinder it, now that his own flesh had deceived him?! Frankenstein cried at the top of his lungs, until finally his breath too left him. His last remaining feeling was a sharp pain in his chest, but even that grew ever number. _I am dying_ , he thought, _and I couldn’t fulfil my last function_. Would he get to see the poor victims of his actions? Or would they turn away from him, leaving him to the eternal flame for the misery he had brought upon humankind? These thoughts were tormenting him, until he couldn’t even muster the energy to think any more. His became blank, white as the snow that stormed around him.

===

He awoke to the sensation of warmth. Still not capable to form a thought or open his eyes he simply sat there, fully enclosed by this feeling he had grown unused to. Something brushed his lips, and soon thereafter he found his mouth cautiously being filled with a warm liquid; he swallowed instinctively, noting the taste of fat and meat. One mouthful after another ran through his gullet, the gentle warmth slowly spreading through his body. A second bowl was brought to his lips, this one he drank so greedily that he choked and got a fit of coughing. Exhausted he sank back and dozed off again.  
A few days may have gone by like this, repeated feedings in semi-delirium followed by hours of blissful sleep. He was awakened one evening by a harsh voice.  
“Do you think you will be able to chew yet?”  
The voice sounded familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite figure where from. With some effort he managed to open his eyes to finally view his surroundings. He was wrapped tight in several blankets and pelts, lying on the ground of what seemed to be a round tent made of wood and skin. Next to him flickered a small camp fire, above which somebody had placed a pot of parboiling meat whose appetizing smell made Frankenstein’s mouth water. His gaze wandered further to the other side of the room, meeting a sight that made him hold his breath.

_“You!”_   
“Whom did you expect?”  
There sat his tormentor, that wretched devil set to destroy him, looking calmly into his eyes. Its gigantic deformed stature was covered in furs, but the horrible vision of terror that was its face was clearly visible. The light of the flames danced upon its shrivelled sickly-yellow skin, highlighting the purplish veins and the structures of bones and muscles that shimmered through. The bloated black lips opened to speak again.  
“Won’t you even thank you saviour?”  
“Don’t ridicule me!”, Frankenstein cried. “I’d rather be frozen to death than having to look at your miserable complexion again!”  
The creature’s still expression warped into a malicious grin, its pale yellow eyes fixating Frankenstein like a cat toying with its prey. “I won’t let you die my friend; You will live, and you will suffer. I will make you curse the day you were born at every moment of your calamitous existence. I will take away everything you desire or care for and have you beg for mercy at my hands; I will make you live, Frankenstein, so I can destroy you.”  
Frankenstein trembled in rage. “Have you not caused enough suffering? Look at me - already broken, a shell of my former self! What more do you want to take from where there’s nothing left? How many more innocents will you kill for your odious quest?!”  
The creature stared at him in silence for a moment before rising from where it had sat and moving towards Frankenstein, its tall figure bent over his lying body.  
“Do you really think you have suffered? You, who could still turn around and restart your life, finish you studies with your father’s inheritance, get employed, marry and start a family? Now matter how much you claim to suffer now, you still have years worth of happy memories to cling to; You were blessed with luck and you rejected it to follow dreams of grandeur. Every misery you try to frame me for you have brought upon yourself.” While the creature was talking its long bony fingers slowly wrapped around Frankenstein’s throat, as if to remind him just how fragile his neck really was.  
“Imagine, for a change, being less lucky; having been born without mother, father, or even a single friend; without guidance or purpose; rejected and hated by everyone because of factors beyond your control. Why would you do good, if everyone just assumes the worst of you nonetheless? So please, spare me from your self-pity. You don’t even know pain, Frankenstein. You haven’t suffered a fraction of what I am going through.”  
Thus said, the creature lifted its grip, stood up and left their camp without another word. Frankenstein still trembled in fear and reflected how he could possibly escape this terrible fate he was trapped in. But the wheels of his mind wouldn’t turn, his exhaustion overwhelmed his desperation. No matter how much he fought, he soon couldn’t resist falling asleep again.

===

The creature lifted its eyes from the fire and looked to Frankenstein‘s sleeping body. It gazed intently at his smooth features hidden under the sweat and grime of their months-long chase, reading the deprivations of the time spent in cold and wilderness in his still face. Somewhere, deep inside itself, long forgotten emotions began to stir. Before it knew, it found itself sitting besides its creator, its ugly monstrous fingers gently caressing his cheek. All pretence dropped it began to follow its impulses; bowing over the fragile body and letting its hand glide over the man’s breast. It had just been freeing this tiny human from his shirt when the hapless awoke.  
Frankenstein, opening his eyes to the horrendous imitation of a face, shrieked in terror and disgust. He tried to rob away, but the creature grabbed him and placed him firmly onto the ground. There was no escaping its tight grip. Frankenstein looked into the hideous yellow eyes, searching them for a clue for what the thing might want; then he suddenly felt its hard member pressing against his stomach, almost the length of his forearm, and the realization dawned on him. His eyes widened in terror and he opened his mouth to a scream of agony, but the creature swiftly placed its hand upon his mouth. Robbed from any chance to cry for help and unable to withstand the devil’s incredible force, he stopped his struggle and pulled his conscience into a corner deep inside his mind. His eyes were closed and tears left them to pour down cheeks, but it was not him who was crying. He felt his upper half being lifted and pressed against the colossal bag of cobbled flesh that was the creature. Its deformed lips brushed his ear, whispering in the thing’s harsh voice.  
„I am not going to hurt you.”  
The creature saw that Frankenstein did not believe it; his body was still tense, his face still of fearful anticipation of what might happen to him. Something inside the creature told him to stop and leave him be, but there was not enough consideration left in it. It pressed the man’s helpless body still firmer against his own, skin on skin, and slid his hand around his bare back. It could feel Frankenstein shivering in its tight embrace. It relished in feeling his warmth and the fast pounding of his heart, exhaling loudly to express its pleasure. This was too much for Frankenstein, who began to weep. The creature loosened its grip and softly placed him back on the ground, upon the pile of his clothes. It itself lay down beside him, placing one of its legs across the human’s body and continuing to caress his skin until he calmed down again.  
“Now, does this really feel so bad?”  
Frankenstein shivered at the sound of the creature’s voice, slowly turned his eyes around until he met its gaze. He was unable to understand what he saw there, only realizing that he was crying when the creature started to gently wipe the tears from his cheeks.  
“Close your eyes.” He obeyed. Something soft pressed against his lips, and he couldn’t help but get a little aroused as he felt the creature’s breath on his skin.  
With slow strokes the creature’s hand approached his crutch. Reaching it, it felt something unexpected - wetness.  
Frankenstein had pissed his pants.  
Surprised, the creature let go of his lips, which in turn made him open his eyes again. For a while, they both just stared at each other. It was the creature that first found its tongue again, slowly twisting its mouth to a mischievous smile.  
“You’ll get frostbite if you keep that on.”  
Frankenstein’s gaze first expressed confusion, then fear, but also - and there the creature was sure - desire. It stripped off his trousers and underwear and looked in loving amazement at what showed itself. The member was still shy, but that could be helped. The creature placed its mouth on Frankenstein’s right thigh and began licking away the traces of urine. Salty, it noticed, and a little bitter. It made sure to come always closer to, although never quite reaching the sweet shrivelled lad. He would take his time. Frankenstein breathed heavily and the creature smiled. It continued on the other leg, savouring the taste of its creator. When it had made sure it had covered both thighs adequately it swiped them dry with its hands, granting them a bit of massage while gently spreading them apart. Frankenstein's penis had grown fully hard, and the creature couldn’t resist any longer. As its mouth matched the proportions of its enormous body, it had no problem containing the entirety of the phallus, even reaching the testicles with its lips. It experimented with kissing, licking and sucking while paying close attention to the delightful groans of its dear lord and master. When at first docile and cautious, its movements soon grew harder and faster to hear more of the sounds which so gently pleased its ear. It rubbed its hands along Frankenstein’s legs, trying to find release for its burning passion. It could feel how this beautiful man came ever closer to culmination and this aroused it more and more.  
Suddenly, instead of sounds of sweet pleasure, it heard another, terrifying noise; a sharp crack.  
Frankenstein cried aloud. He howled, squirmed with pain, holding his injured leg. The creature had sprung to its feet, hitting the root of the tent, which now also came crushing down. No, no, _no! This was not how it was supposed to go._ It kicked away the tent poles which had fallen on Frankenstein and gripped the screaming body. Filled with panic and confusion it began running, just somewhere, until it had a goal or a plan. When it finally stopped to gasp for breath, Frankenstein’s screeches had turned to whimpers. There he was, helpless, lying in its arms, injured by its own hands. Despair made the the creature kneel down in the snow, its eyes filled with tears. Its blank gaze searched the horizon, not really knowing what it was looking for. But there, wasn’t that a fine trail of smoke? It felt a pressure on its chest, but the situation was too severe to not clutch at every straw. And so, without further hesitation, it stroke off to make contact with human civilization again.


End file.
